


Glasses

by twinkcester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Glasses, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 22:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinkcester/pseuds/twinkcester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trials have weakened all of Sam, including his vision and now he can't see Dean as clearly as he'd like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Claudia (gotyoulittlebrother on tumblr) for talking to me about how important glasses Sam is.

Sam’s eyes snapped open in a burst as a snort of unconsciousness drummed in his ear. Being jolted awake definitely wasn’t his favorite past time, but usually it came with a few perks. 

The happily snoring perk lay sprawled across the next bed over, closest to the door, as was his custom. Dean made another coughed up sound as he tossed groggily about. As far as the eye could see, he looked peaceful. 

The eyes in questions didn’t work a well as they once had. Every aspect of the younger Winchester had been weakened by the trials and his vision was far from 20/20 anymore. He had been trying to adjust with a pair of durable horn rimmed glasses Dean had stolen from some old man on a case he’d been working. It sounded worse when Sam thought it over, but the man didn’t live alone and it wasn’t like hunters had the time or resources to stroll into any kind of doctor’s office.

The lenses pretty much did the trick, although they were a little too strong. Sometimes he got small head aches between his eyes, but that couldn’t be blamed solely on the strength of the glasses. The slightly scratched plastic was thick, protruding out from the stable chocolate frames. Sam knew that if glasses like these were helping, his eyesight had to be pretty far from its original glory. It hadn’t been something he noticed outright; the glasses were always on unless he was asleep, and by the time he decided to go to bed, he was always tired enough to fall straight asleep. So it hadn’t even been much of an inconvenience until Sam looked over at his brother in bed and needed to squint to even make sure the body was Dean. 

"Dean," he hissed quietly. His only response was another loud snore. 

"Dean!" Sam said, voice louder and tone more firm. 

"What," the older Winchester grunted, rolling over groggily to face his brother.

"I…" Sam blushed profusely even in the dark, cheeks and ear tips warm and pick. 

"It’s too late for a booty call," he groaned tiredly. "Don’t wake me up for that in the middle of the night."

"No," Sam said quickly. "That’s not what this is."

"What then?"

Sam grappled around desperately for the right word, barely able to pick out Dean’s annoyed bow crinkled expression from the fuzzy mess of his eyeliner. “I can’t see you very well.”

"What the hell are yo-" Dean began with a sigh. "Oh," he amended, realizing that his brother wasn’t just a babbling idiot. "Your eyes bothering you?"

"When I wake up," Sam timidly explained, "I like to look at you." 

There was a slew of reasons behind why a sleeping Dean made him so happy. It was the only time the hunter looked relaxed enough to satisfy Sam’s worry, and that was the most important thing; Dean wasn’t taking anything too hard. 

"The bunker was a pain in the ass for that."

With Castiel popping in and out with his fallen state on mind, the bunker wasn’t exactly a safe haven anymore. They both loved the ex-angel to pieces, but he had no idea, as far as they were aware, to certain aspects of their relationship. A vacation in a motel room was ironic to Sam when he thought about all the times he had wished as a kid that they only stayed in motels during vacations like a normal family. Now that these rooms were a less than regular occurrence, he really had started to miss them. The familiarity of the set up and the reassurance of Dean guarding the door even in slumber was something he had definitely taken for granted. 

"But now you’re all fuzzy and I can’t see you."

Dean took a moment of thought before getting up, shivering when his feet hit the cold ground, and climbed into be with his brother. He wasn’t one to suggest ideas verbally which had gotten them into quite a few unsolvable messes, but the way Sam’s face lit up the dim room told Dean he got it right. “Better?” he grunted. 

"Loads," Sam sighed contentedly, heart fluttering as entangled his brother’s bowed legs with his own. 

His gaze raked over every facial feature he had memorized thoroughly since he was 12 and spent most of his time staring in admiration and longing at Dean. The nose was always defined but crooked near the top of the bridge where he always seemed to get his for that beautiful smart ass mouth of his. The lips were something to write home about if Sam had someone to write home to; pink and pump and always spewing something bitingly sarcastic, except in weak moments like this where he could actually be sweet.

"No nightmares, right?" Dean checked. 

"None," Sam agreed happily. 

He continued his mental check over, taking inventory of every freckle until each little mark had been accounted for. Last but not least, Sam dragged up to his brother’s intense eyes. Greener than the green of the trees when they took a back road and brighter than the sun even in peril and concern. But the way those eyes looked at him trumped every other perfectly imperfect feature, the way he really felt again like he was Dean’s whole world. 

Dean raised a gentle hand to his brother’s soft close shaven jaw and leaned in for a kiss, smiling when Sam reciprocated immediately. After struggling for years upon years with this, whether he was helping or ruining Sam, he had finally come to a conclusion: if it made Sam happy, it couldn’t be bad. 

The taller of the two’s vision went a little fuzzy again, but so did his heart as he pressed eagerly back into kiss. 

"I love you, Sammy," Dean said when they broke apart and Sam was nuzzling gently at his neck. He snaked his fingers through the younger’s strands of chestnut hair and grinned. 

"I love you, too."

"Do you want me to sleep here?"

"I know we don’t fit, but…"

"No, it’s okay. You gotta be able to see my beautiful face all the time, I get it." Dean smirked cheesily, hoping for a laugh from his brother, the greatest sound that was all his. 

"Shut up," Sam snorted, shoving playfully at Dean’s shoulder.


End file.
